Switching out of Friends Only [most of the time.] It's not needed anymore since... well, times have changed! Doesn't mean that Friends status isn't important to me, it is, it always will be :) You can talk to me by messaging me through my LJ mailbox to become a Friend, if you're not, already [it's at the top of of my Profile page]. But to get access to my J, well, almost always not necessary because you'll have it now.

I am a total LJ newbie as of August 2007 [thanks to Kiota.] It's Feb 12, 2008, this day, and I'm not quite so wet behind the ears now. Hopefully.

It's the birthday today, July 10, of LJ UserID "Notalwaysweak" and Kiota and Chels and I all send our best wishes for your day to be filled with happy safe times. ( Chels and I are Co-Mods of Kiota's Memorial Website.)

Kiota showed me a jet-black jacket she'd bought online, each sleeve was sewn with a long zippered pocket on the forearm, lined with crimson, built to carry a concealed hunting knife into these woods at night. Anywhere in the whole thousand acres of them, including right outside her dorm front door. She also worked on a sheath to fit around her calf on the inside near the top of her boot, she could draw it faster from there, if she needed to.

For self-protection against attackers from outside.

Against attackers from inside, a different story, no physical knife would do. As became apparent.

As already was apparent, during the week we spent together.

Our pic is when the afternoon sun was going down behind the libe North side entrances, on campus, a couple days ago... plenty of reflections and sparkle against the dark.

As Bob Dylan wrote:

"I got lost on the riverbut I didn't drown;I got lost on the riverbut I didn't go down;I got lost on the river,but I got found."

I've just come back here physically now, but it really feels as though I never left before that last April weekend.

Neither did she...

Get lost, get found on the river? I don't think so. There's no river here.

Nope, so far only ONE morning is like that. This one, Thursday 18 May. Clouds predicted all day, heh. Not clouds like these, which are splintering the horizon sunshine as far as the evergreens run. Which is pretty far.

A phrase from the sixties: "flower children" back then were hippies of all sexes who wore flowers in their hair, up and down, here and there, in public.

The two are the last survivors of a gathering of eight, given to me at the Volunteer Recognition Day for my teaching. There's plenty of rain but very little sunlight up here; and, actually, they crave replanting in a yard, which I do not have.

So, the memorial for Ki is here in photos. Which will outlast their fading away. For as long as people pass along by the journal to look at them.